


Loranthaceae

by LadyOfTheOldWorld



Series: Like Walking on Broken Glass [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, Christmas gift, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Tatara (Tokyo Ghoul), Trans Yoshimura Eto | Takatsuki Sen, implied/referenced misgendering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 18:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfTheOldWorld/pseuds/LadyOfTheOldWorld
Summary: A visit during the holidays.





	Loranthaceae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercyandmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercyandmagic/gifts).



> Another Christmas gift, this time for the lovely mercyandmagic~! Merry Christmas, dear friend!
> 
> The warnings are in the tags. Don't like? Don't read. Simple.

A knock on the door startled two of the apartment’s three occupants.

One – a lanky teen of medium height, with red eyes and short white hair – flinched before he could stop himself. The other – a child of about seven, with long wild mint green hair and wide heterochromatic eyes – looked up with all the eager curiosity of a puppy, from the book she was reading. The child jumped up from her spot on the floor, book forgotten, and rushed over to the door. Dressed in green leggings and an oversized blue sweater, she looked warm enough, but her bare feet almost suggested that she didn’t feel the cold. Meanwhile, the teen tried to level out his breathing, already mentally berating himself for his reaction. A large red sweatshirt and loose black jeans all but drowned his frame, giving him the masculine silhouette that his school uniform unfortunately didn’t. Hearing the door open, he almost looked to see who it was, but tamped down on the paranoid urge. She would announce whomever it was to the whole world, anyway.

“Your boyfriend’s here~” she called back to him, sounding _far_ too eager about it.

…Or maybe he wouldn’t be fine.

“Shut-up, brat,” he growled, standing from where he’d been seated at the table, “he’s _not_ my boyfriend.” Surprisingly small feet shuffled across the floor, sound muffled by plain socks.

“ _Right_ ,” even at seven, she knew how to sound both sarcastic and snide in the same breath, “and _you’re_ not a boy.”

Had anyone but the three people around him said that, his immediate reaction would have been to hit them in the face, and then keep punching. Once upon a time, her twisted humor and tendency to needle people had made him react much differently – the first time she’d joked like that, he’d had a panic attack so bad he’d passed out – but now it just made him roll his eyes. It was a better reaction than his own reflection ever received, at any rate; the sharp features and angular jawline were all Yan, but the rest of him was soft in the way that Fei had been. (She joked that way about herself, from time to time, but it was mostly when kids in her class slipped up and used the wrong pronouns.) Hearing the boy on the other side of the door gently admonish her – “ _Be nice, Eto_ ,” – roused him from his dark thoughts, and made him quicker to close the distance between them. Nudging her out of the way with a hip, mind for once not screeching that it was a feminine action, he offered his not-boyfriend a ghost of a smile.

“ _Whatever_.” As per usual, Eto’s interest waned when she couldn’t see any further way to amuse herself. “I’m gonna go help Papa.” Not that the selectively mute math teacher needed her help, but she always got more openly clingy around the holidays.

Once they were effectively alone, the paler, shorter male stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind himself. Thanks to paper-thin walls, their conversation could have easily been eavesdropped on, but at least it gave them the illusion of privacy. Shoving his hands into his pockets, shoulders somewhat curled forward to mask his chest as best he could, he allowed his blood-colored eyes to roam where they would. Kousuke Houji was leanly built for an alpha, but his height and charming personality made up for whatever he may have lacked in build. His dark hair was always neatly combed, grey eyes always alight with some mischief or other, and he was always cleanly if casually dressed. He liked to tell himself he would have noticed these things about anyone he considered a friend; only in small moments like these, would he admit it was because his heart and his omega biology were conspiring against him.

Having a small package wrapped in bright red tissue paper handed to him once again broke him from his thoughts. Raising both eyebrows in lieu of a verbal question, he carefully unwrapped it. At first, he wasn’t sure what he’d been given, but then something clicked into place. Anyone else would have seen three simple tank-tops – one in white, one in black, and one in skin tone – but of course he knew _exactly_ what they were. Binders. Actual, honest-to-God _chest binders_. Heartbeat thundering in his ears, wide red eyes and a shocked expression were directed up at the ravenette. And yet, even with his heart going a thousand miles a minute, Houji’s voice still came clear as day.

“I hope they’re the right size, I kind of had to guess.” Even if he hadn’t been staring at him, he could’ve heard the sheepish, sweet smile in his words.

Before he could answer, however, grey eyes flicked upward, and Houji blinked for a moment. His question of what was wrong died in his throat, when the taller teen leaned down to kiss him softly but firmly. When they broke apart, the paler male was blushing brightly.

“I _swear_ ,” he attempted to sound anything but pleased, “if you planned that, you _motherfu_ – ”

His insult was cut short by another kiss, this one deeper and longer, Houji’s arms wrapping around him.

“Merry Christmas, Tatara.”

He had nothing to say to that, so he just leaned up for a third kiss, instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Loranthaceae is the scientific name for the type of mistletoe that grows in Japan.


End file.
